Hope (Remake)
by SweetLilac18
Summary: It's been two years since I lost her. Two years of loneliness and struggle. Two years of hatred and sorrow. She wasn't here anymore but that didn't mean I hated her less. It didn't mean I hated her stories less. Hated Neverland less. Hated Peter Pan less. Fiction or not, I don't care. For three years I felt unloved and unwanted and it's all their fault. Peter Pan x OC
1. Prologue (Hope Remake)

Hope Remake

 _"Do not wonder but hope. Hope will bring you the truth, darling."_

It's been two years since my mother passed away. I've been living on my own since. For a 16-year-old, living independently was already a feat in itself but I survived.

Even after two years, I still remember her stories clearly and vividly.

After all, it was the only thing she ever talked about.

Three years ago, she fell victim to Alzheimer's Disease despite still being at the peak of her 30's. The doctors didn't know why it happened so early and why it occurred the way it did. I was only 13 then but I was already taking care of her as if she was in her late 70's.

It was a hard task and life turned bland right then and there for me.

The only weird thing about everything then was how she still remembered those stories.

Stories from her childhood that she still remembered perfectly. Every day she would tell one to me and, piece by piece, I was able to connect the different stories and fit them into one whole plot.

Her stories revolved around a place called Neverland.

At first, I was happy that she was like this. That at least she remembered something and didn't melt into a puddle of nothingness.

But I slowly realized how utterly sad it all was.

Because all she remembered were her stories. All she remembered was her Neverland.

And it bugged me. Annoyed me to no end.

Because she couldn't even remember her own daughter's name.

That's why I absolutely _hate_ Neverland.

And Peter Pan.


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

Snow fell that day.

I remember it perfectly because it was the day my whole life turned upside down.

It was mid-December and I was busy cleaning my apartment when I finally realized it was already dark outside. I checked the clock to find it was already 10 PM. In other words, I was busy cleaning for straight eight hours.

Exhausted, I plopped down my bed and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, it was already 2 AM the next day. I'd fallen asleep without meaning to.

"Oh, great," I muttered as I felt the dirt and grime on my skin. I hated feeling dirty and I couldn't believe I slept without taking a bath first.

So I hurried up the bathroom and took a quick shower, the sleepy feeling finally going away.

As I showered, my thoughts slowly drifted off.

I thought of _her_.

I always end up thinking of her.

I wondered what she was doing wherever it was she was in at that moment. I wondered if she was looking over me. I wondered if she still cared for me. I wondered if she still thought about those damn stories despite being dead.

I wondered about Mom.

Whenever I wasn't busy doing anything, my thoughts would always return to her. After all, she was the only important aspect of my life before she passed.

I was still 14 then. I had no such things as aspirations or dreams for the future. I didn't want anything superficial or artificial. Heck, I didn't even need friends.

All I needed was her.

And yet here I am. Still mourning for the one person I knew would never come back.

After showering, I changed into clean set of night clothes – a t-shirt one size too big and comfy pajamas. I looked over my phone for a bit as I sat on my bed, my hair dripping wet.

It was then that I heard it.

A loud thump just above me. I subconsciously looked up only to find my cream-colored ceiling.

Must have been some object falling from a high place, I told myself. But that's when the thought struck me.

I live on the top floor of the apartment building.

Freaked out, I convinced myself further that it must have been just a bird that accidentally crashed landed (or something) on the rooftop.

 _Yeah, that must be it._

Relaxing, I placed my phone on the table and returned to the bathroom to dry my hair. The sound of the blow-dryer wheezing through my hair helped calm my nerves.

 _I must either be too paranoid or stupid. Seriously, you're 16 already. Get a grip._

It was already 3 AM by the time I finished blow-drying. By 8 AM, I'd need to go to my part time job so I wouldn't want to sleep in.

Deciding that, I immediately hopped into bed and snuggled myself warm under my blankets.

"That feels better," I muttered under my breath as my eyelids started feeling heavy.

 _Thump! Thump! Thump!_

It was as if my heart jumped out of my chest. There it was again. And this time, it sounded louder.

As I was convincing myself that it was just birds falling out from the sky, I heard the creepiest sound. It sounded like a laugh only it sounded like it came from an evil old guy.

 _God, I watch too many horror movies._

Sitting up, I looked out at the only window in my room just three feet away from me. Something told me to close the curtains. The darkness on the other side didn't help my paranoia so I immediately sat up and shut the curtains. After that, I turned off the lamplight and curled into a ball on my bed.

I tried hard not to think about that sinister laugh just now. It must have been my imagination. Yes, that's right. Must be my mind playing tricks on me maybe because I lacked sleep.

I waited for a few more minutes but no other sound came out.

 _I knew it._

Yawning, I snuggled deeper into my blankets, feeling my tense body relax. I let the comfortable silence enter my mind until I was finally ready to drift off to sleep.

At the edge of both consciousness and sleep, I felt a cool wind run through my hair and cheek.

 _That felt nice._

 _Creak_.

My eyes snapped open before I could think and the next thing I knew was that I was screaming my heart out.

"AAH!"

Hovering above me was a face of a hideous man – warts and boils covering the majority of his face, a mad look in his big eyes, a mouth full of either broken or nonexistent teeth, and a whole lot of dirty facial hair.

"Good evenin', lassie," he spoke above me, his breath smelling a thousand times worse than shit.

I laid frozen in shock on my bed for a few moments before finally regaining back some sense and pushing the man away. Standing up on my bed, I pressed myself against the wall as far as I could away from him. My heart was pounding loud and dangerously in my chest. My mind was a storm and I couldn't think straight.

"W-Who the hell are you?!" I was shaking terribly in fear. I've never been so scared in my whole life. A burglar, a rapist, a kidnapper – was in my room! "How'd you get in here?! What do you w-want?"

But he simply laughed and, oh, did it sound maniacal and creepy. "Can't keep someone from enterin' yer room just by closin' yer curtains, lassie," he said.

My heart stopped. _He came in from the_ window _?_

As if reading my thoughts, the man smiled and, oh, did it look hideous. "Aye, lassie, I know what yer thinkin'," he said as he inched closer to my bed.

"S-Stay where you are, you… you motherfu—"

"Tsk, tsk, lassie," he interrupted. "Didn't yer mother teach you anything? Now, just calm yer scurvies and cooperate, eh? 'Tis makes things much easier, savvy?"

… _What?_

"Who are you?" I demanded once more, inching away from the man.

Sighing in disappointment, he rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "Yer not makin' things easier, lassie. Guess I'll have to do things the hard way," he said, his eyes darkening.

He inched closer, his booted foot coming atop my bed. Panic rose up inside me. I was scared shitless right then and there and I knew I couldn't do anything about it.

 _If I'm to die now, I might as well go down fighting._

Without a second's thought, my foot collided with the man's face at full force. He tumbled back on the floor with a loud groan. Seeing this as my chance, I quickly grabbed my phone and leaped over the man over to the other side of the room.

Turning over to the door leading outside, I ran as fast as I could _because_ my life depended on it. Reaching the door, I turned the handle and pulled the damn thing open.

"Ain't happenin', lassie!"

Before the rest of my body could even make it outside, the man aggressively and suddenly pushed the door close from behind me. Except he couldn't because my foot blocked the way.

I screeched at the pain that erupted at the sudden force on my foot, pulling it back in agony.

I glared back up at him in anger, his face flashing with little to no emotion at all.

"Why don't ya just cooperate, little lassie?" he asked, almost as if sympathetically, before crouching down to my defeated form on the floor. He looked down on my injured foot before bringing his eyes back up at me. "Serves ya right. That foot of yers can hurt a lot," he said while massaging his jaw.

"Fuck you," I cursed at him. Seething under my breath, I mustered up the courage to ask again. "What do you—"

But before I could finish, I saw a flash of movement before my stomach suddenly erupted in raging pain. I coughed long and hard, my vision blurring and the world spinning. I felt myself fall to the floor in a thud, my head growing numb.

The last thing I saw was the man's mad eyes before blacking out.


End file.
